Hi everyone :)

Almost didn't manage to post today, I've been asleep pretty much all day :/ oh the joys of hayfever and general illness! Anyway, as always do alert me to any mistakes I might have made and let me know what you think :)

Enjoy!

When Yan returned to reality she blew up the bunker.

It had not been entirely her first intention, after all she was still inside it, but the sudden rush of power flowing through her limbs was akin to waking from a dream and remembering how easy it actually is to move. Without really thinking she had sucked all the energy from the bunker, plunging it into instance darkness as the generators blew and then had released it all at once.

The shockwave of energy, combined with the strain placed upon the wires and generators was enough to cause an explosion. A single spark and she was aflame, sending great balls of fire screaming down the corridors. It was not long before the fire reached the rooms containing piles of weapons, some more experimental and volatile than others, and the end effect was that the bunker was torn in half and thrown into the air, displacing tonnes of earth and shattering trees.

This did not happen all at once. In fact she had long enough to come to her senses and gain some semblance of control to get herself out. It would have been quite disastrous if she had managed to blow herself up within five minutes of regaining life. It was also enough time for her to remember the words of the eleventh guardian and make some effort towards corralling her fellow soldiers out of the bunker. She made no such effort for the scientists, her compassion would only stretch so far.

Then, standing in the middle of a crater that was gradually being swallowed by a dense mixture of ash and snow, she watched the retreating figures of the fleeing soldiers and wondered what she should do next.

She felt surprisingly clean and pure, as if a lot of metaphorical dirt had been washed from her veins as well as the actual grime that had so disgustingly coated her skin. That skin was now bright and smooth, all marks of former injuries smoothed away, and even her hair seemed lustrous and soft as if it had gained a new lease of life. In fact it had grown and now fell several centimetres further down her shoulders. She plaited it neatly, marvelling at the feel of it slipping between her fingers.

Returning her focus to more important matters, she began to sift through the information she had absorbed from the bunker's computers. Ignoring medical and progress reports on the soldiers, weapon blueprints, locations and other data of other bases and stored communications between agents, she finally came across the information she desired, S.H.I.E.L.D.

Of course she knew about S.H.I.E.L.D., it had been explained in detail to them and portrayed as one of their main enemies, an offshoot of the government both more powerful and in possession of an unhealthy interest in the organisation. It sounded perfect.

Wandering aimlessly through the wreckage of the bunker, Yan came across enough parts to build a radio. Then, using frequencies she had taken from the computers which were described as "frequently used by S.H.I.E.L.D.", she sent pulses of energy in Morse code. She sent her coordinates and a considerable amount of information from the computers to capture their interest.

She decided to hide all evidence of the Saran, vanishing most of her gifts into the endless space of her tattoos until she was left with just the gifts of the fourth, eighth and tenth guardians. It wasn't like she had anything else to wear. Hopefully, they would not be too suspicious of her bizarre tattoos.

She didn't have long to wait.

"What is it that you want?" Agent Coulson asked.

"Some lunch would be nice," Yan replied sarcastically, sticking to safe territory as she was not entirely sure what sort of an answer he expected.

"I was thinking more in the long term," Coulson replied.

"Freedom, I guess," Yan shrugged nonchalantly as if she was asking for a sandwich rather than liberty. She was beginning to think that signalling S.H.I.E.L.D. had not been such a great idea. With the last agent it had been easy to take the conversation wherever she wanted it to go, but Coulson seemed to know exactly the right questions to ask. He'll just have to put up with not getting the right answers.

"I see. Well, if that is what you want then we can make it happen," things were finally starting to go the way she wanted. "But it's not going to happen immediately. We know too little about you and what happened in the bunker to be able to just let you leave without making a few arrangements,"

Or maybe not.

"What's it going to take?" Yan asked, starting to feel impatient.

"Well, first we need to evaluate you, check that you are able to adapt to living in the normal world, and you need to tell us everything you know about the bunker and the Organisation. And of course, you're not yet legally an adult, so we would have to place you with a foster family. To help you adapt, of course,"

So that you can keep an eye on me you mean.

"I can assure you that I am definitely capable of looking after myself, one year is not going to make any difference," She said acerbically. "I am certainly not in need of mollycoddling,"

"Be that as it may, it's the way it's going to be. So if a normal life is what you really want, you're going to have to put up with it. Although I can't help but feel that isn't what you're really after,"

Yan realised that once again he had managed to see beneath what she was saying to what she actually wanted. He was right of course. A normal life was beginning to seem decidedly dull to her. She was not a normal person, especially now that she was forever bonded to a quasi-immortal, all powerful, alien parasite. The only thing she was really certain about was that she wanted to be able to choose. And perhaps to be shot at a bit less.

"No, it's not," she admitted, deciding that it wasn't really worth the effort to persuade him otherwise. "Normal people are insufferable idiots and I have no interest in pretending to be one,"

Coulson laughed, "OK, good, you're starting to say what you actually mean. It makes it a lot easier,"

"I'm so glad I'm making this more convenient for you," Yan said sardonically. "Let's make this even easier, why don't you tell me what you think I want and I'll let you know if you get it right,"

"Alright, I think that you have no idea what you want, you're just making it up as you go along. But I also think that you want to know what it's like working for the right side, to do something good for once. Maybe you want to make amends for what you have done, working for them. You would not be the first,"

Yan snorted derisively, "Sorry to disappoint but you're very far off the mark. I have no interest in helping others or doing "something good for once", and I categorically do not have some burning desire to "balance the books". I did what I did to survive and there is no shame in that. Yours may be an opposing side, but in the end it's no different. I'm not here looking for a new employer,"

Coulson was silent for a few moments, regarding her thoughtfully, "You have a very cynical world view. You may not be willing to admit it but that is not really how you feel. You are the one who contacted us, after all,"

"Oh please, it seemed a better option than being picked up by my own side!" Yan retorted, annoyed at his persistent belief in her humanity. "This is the insufferable idiocy that I was talking about. You are all so desperate to believe that I am some perfect moral being as if I was completely unaffected by the last decade of my life!"

Coulson smiled at her in an infuriatingly knowing way, "You put on a good act when you know you're being watched, but I'm not fooled. We've met before you know, in the Denver Art Museum,"

Ah! So that's where I know him from. Yan was careful to give no indication that this was new information to her, perfectly aware that in her distracted state, awed by that painting, she had quite possibly revealed a rare moment of weakness. But it was nothing, he would need more than that if he was going to get through to her.

She merely shrugged and said, "I was on a mission, it was acting all the same,"

"Hmm, if you insist," Coulson conceded. However, she sensed that he was not quite done. "Why don't we focus on what you know, then? There are still a few things I'd like to know about the bunker,"

"Fine," Yan said curtly, secretly glad to be on slightly firmer ground.

"About three months ago we lost contact with an informant on the inside of the bunker, another soldier like you," Coulson began, sparking her interest. "He had been passing us information for some time about what was going on, mission details et cetera. He'd even helped us find some of the other, less important bases belonging to the Organisation, although we were still in the dark about the location of the bunker as he was handing over info during his missions and we had no direct contact when he was inside. They had begun to suspect that something was amiss and we had offered to get him out. But he refused, said he couldn't leave unless he brought on of his fellow soldiers with him and that was the last we heard from him. His name was Jason Strand,"

He paused to let his words sink in and the cold, unpleasant feeling that had been slowly tightening its grip on her chest climaxed into a dawning realisation that this was another trap. He was talking about Storm.

"I was his handler," Coulson continued. "And during our various meetings I heard a lot about this other soldier that he was so reluctant to leave behind. He said that she was probably the only one it wasn't too late to save. And you know? I would say she sounded like a pretty good person at her core."

"Do you actually care what happened to him?" Yan snapped, raging fury flowing through her veins, an uncontrollable blaze that threatened to consume her. For once she let herself feel it, feel the anger and the grief at his death. There was some small part of her that was strangely glad to hear this, to find out that he had not abandoned her as the scientists wanted her to believe. But he was still dead. He had still been cruelly taken from her, the only person she had ever felt anything close to love for. And she knew that in the end it was not S.H.I.E.L.D's fault that he had died, it was the scientists who had killed him and it had been his choice to endanger himself in that way. But in that moment she was sure she hated no one and nothing more than she hated the man sitting in front of her for so calmly using Storm's death to manipulate her.

"Of course I do," Coulson said assertively, but she was unconvinced.

"They killed him," Yan replied bluntly. "They shot him in the head. Congratulations on completely failing to make a difference,"

"I'm truly sorry, he was a good kid," Coulson managed to look both apologetic and frustrated at the same time. "And I regret not being able to save him. But I am trying to make a difference! I'm trying to save you. He thought you were a good person, he died trying to save you and I just don't get why you're so insistent on portraying yourself as an emotionless monster! It can hardly aid your case. And thus I can only conclude that you're trying to protect yourself because the idea that emotions are a weakness has been so deeply engrained in you!"

Yan narrowed her eyes irately, "Storm was my friend and now he is dead. That's the way it is. But in the end he saw something in me that wasn't there, his death was a waste. I don't need saving, I can do it myself."

"Antonia –" he began, mistakenly thinking he could appease her anger by using her name.

"Do not call me that!" she hissed getting to her feet with such force that she slammed her chair into the wall behind her.

The guard, who had barely stirred in the past half hour, leapt up and aimed his gun at her. No longer ruled by sense, she unwisely launched herself in his direction. He fired twice and the electric charge of the stunner hit her squarely in the chest, throwing her off balance and knocking her over. Momentarily winded she lay still and the charge dissipated as the energy was absorbed by the gift of the tenth guardian. The shock was sufficient for her to come to her senses and she made sure that she stayed down. If she had been a normal human the charge would have knocked her unconscious and she had revealed enough for the day.

She gritted her teeth as the guard prodded her side with his boot and resisted the urge to snap his ankle.

Coulson sighed, "This is inconvenient. I was finally getting somewhere. By the time she wakes up she'll have shut down again."

"Sir, she is clearly capable of inflicting a lot of damage," the guard replied, sounding rather put out that his actions were being questioned.

Ah, he speaks! Yan thought inwardly rolling her eyes.

"Yes, ok, let's move her onto the bench so that she doesn't feel too murderous when she wakes up," Yan forced herself to relax so that her body went floppy when the guard scooped her up and manhandled her onto the bench at the side of the cell. She listened to the retreating footsteps and waited for the slam of the door. Once more she was alone.

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to follow, favourite and review :D